


Comfort

by Rrrowr



Series: Teen Wolf Drabbles [9]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-28
Updated: 2013-06-28
Packaged: 2017-12-16 10:42:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/861129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rrrowr/pseuds/Rrrowr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pregnant!Peter is having some difficulty sleeping.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Comfort

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aggybird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aggybird/gifts).



Peter looked at himself in the mirror and wasn’t entirely sure he liked what he saw. He was fuller now in many ways — a rounder face, rounder shoulders, a heavy chest that was just getting bigger as the Big Day approached, and then of course… 

His center of gravity had shifted low to accommodate the slow broadening of his stomach, especially these last few months, when his modest baby bump had blossomed into something much more prominent. He’d gotten so big that he’d given up altogether the idea of being able to go into town without people staring. His clothes couldn’t cover this anymore, and it had been bad enough trying to explain to Stiles that this was a natural thing for born werewolves. It should surprise no one that the idea of breaking this kind of news to a general population of humans just for the luxury of venturing outside was not one that Peter wanted to entertain.

Still, he turned to the side and stroked a hand over the swell of his stomach. There were very few stretchmarks, but there had been times when the speed of the baby’s growth had outmatched that of his healing capabilities. In a month, maybe, they would be the only sign that Peter had been pregnant at all.

Well them, and the baby, of course. 

"What’s wrong?"

Derek lingered in the doorway. He was always hanging about, sticking close to Peter in ways that he wouldn’t normally be willing, quick to protect him — quicker still to send Peter home to be coddled. Peter supposed that the promise of new family and peace time was enough to bridge any former grudges, but he didn’t always have to like it. It wasn’t being pregnant that was so unsettling. It was everything that came with it — the urges and the cravings. The way that it mellowed out his darkest impulses. The need for pack was familiar enough, but not like this, where he was in turns frustrated at being locked up like this and also appreciative of the gesture and what it meant.

Admitting that he needed something didn’t come easily to Peter. He almost had to be forced, already on the edge of disaster prior to intervention. Like now, in the mirror — his own hands on his own skin and wishing it were someone else’s, wishing that he had heat pressed on either side of him instead of empty air.

"Everything’s fine," Peter told him.

Reaching out, Derek slid a knuckle across Peter’s skin, which tightened into goosebumps in its wake. “And the father?"

"Which one?" Peter replied lightly, watching for Derek’s flinch. “They’re with their respective packs, just as they should be."

Derek’s nostrils flared, scenting him. “Would you like me to call them here?" he asked, and off of Peter’s sharp look, added: “You look like you need company."

"I’m fine," Peter lied. “I have you for company as it is. That’s enough, isn’t it?"

"They could give you something I can’t."

Peter shuffled past Derek and into his bedroom. “What I need right now is a nap," he said gruffly. “A nap and a pillow and something to distract me from how soon this thing is going to be clawing its way out of me."

Derek, having never actually been witness to a werewolf birth, went wide eyed, and Peter was feeling irritable enough to let him live with that mental image for now. He lied down, punched the pillow and curled up around it, ignoring Derek until he moved away. Peter slept, or tried to, and ended up waking from a restless slumber to a familiar scent and nimble fingers at the base of his spine, rubbing in hard circles until the ache went away.

"Heard you were being bitchy with your alpha because you haven’t been sleeping well," Stiles murmured. “Derek all but dragged me out of my own house."

Peter huffed, but said nothing — though he made a terrible, needy noise when Stiles’ hand moved to his front, to the baby, feeling its life and energy for himself.

"Honestly," Stiles said. “You should call us more often."

"Us?" Peter asked, breathing the word hopefully.

Stiles hummed, and that was when Peter heard the creek of the door as it opened. Deucalion looked a little messy — straight out of bed, messy, like he hadn’t bothered to do more than dress before coming to Peter.

"Us," Deucalion said.

"Guess you can’t have me doing something nasty when we all need this baby as a symbol of our truce," Peter said grudgingly.

Deucalion had the nerve to laugh. “As if I would have a child with just anyone in the name of peace," he said as he sat on the edge of the bed, cupping Peter’s cheek and turning him up to kiss. “As if you would."

Stiles yawned and snuggled against his back, a hot hot brand. “Word," he said, holding a hand up for a fist bump (which Deucalion gently gave) before letting it fall on Peter’s belly again. “Can we sleep now?"

Deucalion raised a brow at Peter. “Can we?"

Grunting, Peter turned his face into the pillow, and when Deucalion lied down in front of him, Peter hooked his fingers into the crook of his elbow.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here](http://rrrowr.tumblr.com/post/51845702892) on tumblr.


End file.
